Page 48 of Princess Bride Swap

“I do want what’s best for Divio. And I will fight for it. But why does that mean I cannot care for my own wife?”

“She’s poisoned you.”

“Or she’s set me free.” He wasn’t certain he believed that, but it felt good to say. It felttrueto say. “Now, I would appreciate it if you would have lunch with Beau. I will go talk to her, and then you two will sit down and have a civil conversation. Apubliccivil conversation to undo this.”

Mother scoffed. “She will not agree. Or she will not be civil. You cannot get through to that girl. She is...unhinged.”

“She is not. She’s incredibly reasonable. But she’s also...incredibly herself. Without fear. Nevertheless, she will have lunch with you, she will be civil, because I’ll have asked her to. You see, Mother... Perhaps I have a soft spot for her, but she has a soft spot for me as well. Grandmother treated us like little soldiers. There were no soft spots. I thought that was the only way to be.”

“It got you here, didn’t it?”

“No, happenstance did. Maybe the other family’s genetic predispositions to giving in to excess as well, I can’t deny that. Perhaps Grandmother taught me in ways her brothers, nephews and so on had never been taught. Perhaps it will even allow me to rule Divio with all that tradition and stability she so worshipped. But it didn’tget mehere.”

“She loved you.”

Lyon thought about that. And then he thought about Beau. How she listened to him. Tried to understand him. The comfort she offered. The heartfelt apology. Those things were closer to love than cold demands, hard rules and harsh punishments.

“No. I’m not sure she really loved either of us. She loved the idea of what her progeny might do to one-up her brothers. Love is...helping one another, apologizing when you’re wrong. Love is soft spots, Mother.”

“You must run a country, Lyon.”

“Yes. I’ve been doing an excellent job of it the past year, if I do say so myself. It was good, to start off just me. But now I have added a wife, and some adjustments could be made. If I am going to start a family, adjustmentswillbe made.” He would not raise his children with the weight of the entire country on their shoulders.

Respect for their role, yes. An appreciation for hard work, ideally. But he would not lay down the burden of centuries. Not on them. Not on his wife.

And not even on himself. Not anymore.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

LYONRETURNEDTOtheir rooms. The door to the bedroom was still closed, and when he went to try and open it, he found it locked.

He knocked. “Beau?” he called through the door. “You must unlock the door for me. We need to talk.” He would confess everything. Love and soft spots and what he hoped for the future. He would tell her the realizations she’d brought out.

And together, they would build some sort of future where his fear of failure did not rule him. Where he could makeheras happy as she’d made him.

But she didn’t respond in any way. And the door did not unlock. He jiggled the knob once more. “Beau?” He set his ear to the door. It wasn’t like she could have disappeared. She had to be in there somewhere. Perhaps she’d gone into the bathroom and couldn’t hear.

He had a key to this door somewhere, but he didn’t want to have to call Mr. Filini to track it down as then there’d be speculation as to why his wife had locked him out of their bedroom. Or should that matter? Should he—

Then he heard it. Not her responding, but the faint sounds of...gasping? Like she was struggling to breathe. She must be having some kind of...medical event.

Terror speared through him, and he shook the door in renewed earnest. “Beau? Answer me.”

He didn’t hear her say anything, but as he was rearing back to fling himself against the door, the knob moved. Then the door creaked open the tiniest crack.

He rushed forward into the room, heart pounding and worry and fear clawing through him. The light was dim—the curtains drawn. He looked around in a panic, and didn’t see her at first, but he heard her. A terrible, gasping noise. Coming from...

She was on the floor. Tears were pouring out of her eyes, and every breath sounded labored and terrible. She shook like she might simply shake apart.

For only a second he was rendered completely frozen with terror. “I’ll get the doctor,” he managed to say. He wanted to run to her, but she needed help he couldn’t give.

She shook her head violently. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Then he strode forward, gathered her in his arms. “I willtakeyou to the doctor,” he said firmly.

“It’s n-not an ill—illness,” she managed to say, though her voice was weak and her entire being shook in his arms.

“Then what—?” But the fact she could speak now had eased something inside of him enough to recognize certain things. If it wasn’t medical, that meant it was something else. And the only something else that he knew could have physical symptoms like that was anxiety.

“You’ve had a panic attack,” he murmured in surprise. It was hard to believe Beau panicked aboutanything.

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